


Redux

by Jonjo



Category: Justified
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Harlan County, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonjo/pseuds/Jonjo
Summary: Loretta goes missing on Tim's watch. Can the return of Raylan Givens save the day and how will Tim cope with his return?





	1. Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place nearly a year after the end of the series. Raylan is in Miami and Art's getting ready to retire. 
> 
> It mostly follows canon although there are some obvious departures. I couldn't resist bringing Tom Bergen back to life and having a dig at Nelson.

 

 

 

 

Tim’d had a hell of a day. He slipped back into the Marshal’s office, dropped into his chair, and put his elbows on the desk. He hid his head in his hands and hoped Art wouldn’t see him. It should have come as no surprise that his bad luck was holding.

“Tim!”

He carefully glanced up only to find Art staring back at him. He’d have prefered to ignore Art, knowing that his day was about to get so much worse, but he was a soldier first and foremost and he knew an order when he heard one.

As Tim reached his office, Art stood and leaned on his desk still staring at him. “What were you thinking? Wait—don’t answer that.” Art paused and took a deep breath.

Tim gritted his teeth and looked down at his boots. Art seemed to be searching for the right words to effectively rip him a new one or else keep his evident anger in check. “No…” He started again. “How? Or better yet… Why?”

Nelson was in the hospital and their fugitive was in the wind. All together an awesome day’s work and that wasn’t the half of it. Tim kept his mouth shut, mostly so he didn’t say what he was thinking: _Nelson was a fuckin’ idiot with shit for brains._

But Art kept staring at him so he tried to put a sentence or two together that wouldn’t make things too much worse.

Still looking at his boots, Tim told Art how the day had panned out, how a simple fugitive run had gotten so utterly fucked up.

They’d picked up their guy easily enough, but in the car the jerk’d kept complaining that his arm was injured and it was going numb handcuffed behind his back.

They’d got into Harlan town, where Tim wanted to pick up his truck while Nelson dropped the prisoner at the Harlan County Detention Center in Evarts.

Just as he was opening his trunk to drop his kit in, Tim heard a yell and sprinted back to Nelson who was on the ground with his head bleeding. Nelson, apparently bored of the man’s whining, had unlocked the guy’s cuffs to refasten them at the front, but before he could, the guy had punched him to the ground. A couple of mean kicks to Nelson’s head later and he’d jumped into the front seat and driven off.

Tim looked up at Art who was somewhat red in the face. “We found the car,” Tim added sheepishly, hoping it would help. Art’s expression told him it did not.

Behind his desk Art sat down heavily and waved toward Tim to do the same.

“Why didn’t you stay with him until he’d taken the guy in?” Art said, then sighed.

From the look on his face, Tim was pretty sure Art was struggling with a similar line of reasoning as he was. And Tim was certain he didn’t want to put those thoughts into words. It had been a one-man job, not something _any_ Marshal should have difficulty with. Unlocking the cuffs without subduing the fugitive in some way first was downright stupid, but since Nelson was in the hospital learning his lesson in the hardest way, it didn’t need to be said aloud.

“Tell me what happened to you? You didn’t appear at the hospital till way later, where’d you go?” Art studied Tim suspiciously.

“I thought I could find the guy or at least the car.” Tim hoped this would be enough of an explanation. Unfortunately Art raised his eyebrows as if he knew there was more.

“And I had some personal business I wanted to take care of,” Tim admitted reluctantly.

“In Harlan? You going to elaborate on that?”

“Not unless I have to. I’m not sure it’s anything yet.” Tim really hoped he’d get away with that. “I got a couple of calls to make. Then…”

“God damn it, get outta here and make those calls.”

Tim didn’t quite believe his luck. Rightly so as Art called after him, “Then… you’re gonna come right back in here an’ tell me the whole damn story.”

 

The first call went to voicemail, he left a message but then tried another number. It too went to voicemail and Tim started to curse just as the call got picked up.  

“Well now, how can I help you?” a female voice asked. She didn’t sound particularly pleased. That made two of them, and in his frustration Tim was less than professional.

“I need to speak to Raylan.”

The answer he got did not improve his mood. “I'm sorry sweetie but he's just not here,” she replied, sounding like she was trying to get rid of another troublesome girlfriend. It occurred to Tim she’d probably got quite a bit of practice. “I can take a message,” she added, slightly more accommodating.

Tim declined, he’d already left a message on Raylan’s cell. “Just tell him Tim called,” he said and belatedly added “Thanks” before he ended the call.

 

Tim hadn’t really been thinking that clearly. The day had been a complete shit storm. In fact, if he was being honest with himself he’d have realized he was pretty much freaked out. He hated Harlan on a good day and this was so far beyond being anything like a good day.

For a moment, Tim wished Raylan was back there in Kentucky. His life had been so much quieter since Raylan had been gone and he liked that, but right now he wished the cowboy was with him—he needed his help.

 

Wanting Raylan around had been a change of pace for Tim. They’d hooked up the night before Raylan returned to Miami and their parting had left him feeling used by a man he’d begun to think of as a friend. He was still angry.

Raylan had written his number on a slip of paper and bailed while Tim was still on his morning run. Unable to throw it out but unwilling to save it in his phone, Tim had slotted the note under the chrome surrounding of his bathroom mirror. He'd thought about using it, almost every day to start with, but he had no idea what he'd say. It was a good six months before he put it away, tucked into a drawer with the dog tags he'd eventually stopped wearing. He’d hoped that removing the tags would make him feel less like the soldier he’d been—separate him from those days and maybe help with his PTSD. He hoped tucking the note away would have the same effect on his feelings for Raylan.

 

After an hour of waiting, somewhat impatiently, Tim still hadn’t heard from Raylan and it occurred to him that if the woman who’d answered the call had made the wrong assumption about him, she may not have passed on the message at all. He’d have to try again, he thought, this time with a touch more professionalism.

“Miami US Marshal’s Office…” Tim recognized the voice as the same woman he’d spoken to before.

“This is Deputy US Marshal Tim Gutterson from the Eastern Kentucky office, it’s important I speak with Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens.”

“Oh!” was all the reply he got for a few moments before she pulled herself together. “He really is out of the office right now and I can’t contact him but if it’s really important I can put you through to the chief.”

Before Tim could reply, Chief Deputy US Marshal Dan Grant had picked up the call and was inquiring who he was speaking to. Tim took a breath and introduced himself, saying he needed to get ahold of Raylan.

“Are you that sharp-shooting Ranger Raylan goes on about?” Dan asked.

Tim confirmed it although he wasn’t sure he liked the description; it felt dismissive.

Dan Grant said Raylan was working surveillance but should be back in the office by the next morning. Tim told Dan as little as possible, just that he thought Raylan may have information in relation to a case in Harlan County and that it was imperative he speak with him as soon as he was available.

Tim felt he should have said more but he hadn’t spoken to Art and he knew Dan would call him to find out what was going on. Leaving Art in the dark was not an option he wanted to pursue.

 

Tim called Constable Bob and then gave himself a few minutes to order his thoughts.

Steeling himself, he traipsed into Art’s office. His boss eyed him skeptically as he entered. Tim thought this here was another reason he missed Raylan, he was always good for soaking up Art’s disdain.

“Ok then,” Art started, “What was so important about this _personal business_ of yours that you thought it was ok to desert Nelson. And what’s it got to do with that godforsaken county?”

Tim would have preferred to stay standing and exploit what little height advantage he had, but Art pointed to a seat and he took it. Then as if a thought had just dawned on him, Art’s eyes went wide.

“Wait, you’re not sleeping with anyone down there are you?”

Shocked Tim blurted out, “Jesus Art, I’m not Raylan!”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry it was just a thought,” Art tried to placate him. “Tell me what did happen then.”

“I got a call from Constable Bob Sweeney,” Tim began, feeling the tension in his shoulders.

“Who?” Art interrupted, “Thought I knew all the _names_ in Harlan, this one must’ve got by me.”

“Short round guy, deceptively effective, helped us get Shelby out of Harlan that time.”

“Ah,” Art seemed satisfied, “Go on, what’d he want?”

“You’ll remember Loretta McCready?” Tim asked.

Art’s face fell and he nodded slowly.

“Bob keeps an eye on her, Raylan made him promise,” Tim explained.

Art’s sigh sounded so careworn at the mention of Raylan that Tim almost felt guilty. “And you promised Raylan you’d look out for her too.” It was not a question.

“Bob saw her three days ago, but not since, she’s not been back to her house for at least a day and a half and he’s worried. I said I’d go over and take a look.” Tim steepled his fingers and looked up at Art. “I checked out the house but there was nothing much to see there, so I went up to one of her drying sheds. Saw what looked to be evidence of a struggle.”

Art went quiet for a while, obviously thinking. Then his face grew stern and he looked up at Tim.

“You can’t do this Tim… I know Raylan got away with running off all the time but he ain’t the example to follow. You get that, I hope.” Art sighed again and ran his palms over his face before continuing. “This ain’t Marshal business Tim, we’ve got enough work on our hands without making more for ourselves.”

Tim didn’t argue, just watched as Art settled himself more comfortably behind his desk and waited.

 

“Keep going.” Art eventually relieved the silence. “I’m still listening.”

“Did you know Raylan gave his permission for Loretta to use his daddy’s land?”

“What! She’s growing weed on his land? Does he know about this? Damn it Tim, I thought with Raylan out of the state we’d seen the last of the trouble he creates.”

“Now hold up Art, it ain’t weed she’s growing.”

Art raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she still grows it up in the mountains on Bennett land,” Tim conceded. “That’s not the point.”

Art stood up, raising his voice. “How is it not the point? He is a Deputy US Marshal!”

Tim knew he needed to calm Art down but it was hard to get a word in edgewise once he’d started to rant. Tim took a deep breath to calm himself. This was supreme bullshit and if he couldn’t convince Art of that, god only knew what was going to happen to Loretta.

Art was still grumbling to himself about how he wished he’d never set eyes on Raylan Givens, so Tim raised his voice a little.

“She is not growing weed on any land Raylan owns,” Tim asserted slowly.

It shut Art up for a moment so he continued. “Art, it’s hemp… legal, industrial, hemp. But that ain’t the point either.”

“So what’s the damn point?”

“The hemp crop isn’t hidden like her weed, it’s out there for all to see. We think someone could be upset a girl as young as her is making money off of it. They probably want her out the way so they can move in on the business. She’s no Mags Bennett, Art. She’s vulnerable to whoever might want it.”

“Ok, Tim ok, I’ve got it. Have you spoken to Raylan?”

“I tried,” Tim answered, relieved he’d made some progress. “Left a couple of messages, got put through to Dan Grant eventually, says Raylan’s on some surveillance gig. Should be back in the morning.”

“I’m gonna regret this but… ” Art said rubbing his hand across his face. “Look, I’ll call Dan, see if we can’t get Raylan up here. You get ahold of that constable of yours and see if he’s found anything else. And while you’re at it, work out some way we can legitimately call this Marshal business.”

 

Tim struggled to find anything that would help Art justify his marshals looking for Loretta.

He found himself wondering why it was that he’d connected with Loretta McCready. She’d been Raylan’s unofficial ward initially, but now Tim felt protective of her too. Perhaps it was her attitude and demeanor that he felt weren’t so different from his own or that she had a confidence and efficiency of purpose that he could admire. Either way he knew her safety mattered very much to him.

The problem with Loretta’s disappearance for the USMS was not that she was a minor who had gone missing. In fact, it was one of their responsibilities to assist local and state law enforcement to find children who had been abducted.

The problem, Tim knew, was Loretta’s very unique circumstances. They put him in somewhat murky waters. She was still technically a minor but was legally emancipated, thanks to Mags Bennett’s property, money, and her own business dealings. Loretta grew and sold weed, which was not exactly news to the Harlan County law enforcement community. But neither Tim nor the locals needed it to become so obvious such that they’d be forced to act on the information.

It was likely, however, if her abduction became public knowledge, that the Kentucky State Police would become involved in the search. Tim was afraid some hot-shot state trooper might just call in the DEA, given Harlan County’s reputation for drug crime. He really didn’t want Loretta’s sideline discovered while they were looking for her. He’d probably lose his job or worse, if the US Marshals Service and the local LEOs were held accountable for not doing something about her activities sooner. Not to mention the trouble she’d find herself in.

Consequently, Tim needed a valid reason to be in Harlan County that had nothing to do with Loretta being missing.

Rachel eyed him from across the office, he could see she was curious. He also knew she hated to be left out, so it didn’t surprise him much when he felt her come to stand behind his chair. He was less circumspect with her than he’d been with Art, filling her in on what’d been happening.

“Couldn’t you use the warrant out on the guy you lost today as an excuse to go hunting around in Harlan? At least to start with,” Rachel suggested.

“Yeah, thought about that until I got a report in saying he’d been spotted down in Tennessee near Kingsport. Outta my hands.” Tim shrugged.

“There’s gotta be someone else in Harlan with an outstanding warrant against their name. Let me poke about and see what I can find.” Rachel patted him on the shoulder and walked off towards her desk. “I’ll update you in the morning, ok?”

It was nearly ten when Tim left the office having put together his conclusions for Art. The chief hadn’t seemed particularly impressed that Rachel’s idea was all they’d come up with to move the case forward within the purview of the United States Marshals Service.  
  
The news from Art had however been much more positive.  He’d spoken to Dan and they’d agreed, reluctantly, that Raylan should fly up to Lexington. Tim was pretty sure that if anyone could, Raylan’d be able to spin some sort of legitimate story to justify their involvement.

Whatever happened, Tim knew they’d go after Loretta regardless.

 


	2. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d made some progress but still hadn’t found Loretta. Tim had promised himself they’d get her back but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it.

 

Tim arrived at Lexington’s Blue Grass Airport well before Raylan’s flight was due. He drove the truck into short-term parking and wandered into the terminal building. Checking the arrivals board, he found he had a while to wait. 

He’d been looking for something new to read, so he headed off in search of a store that sold books. There was only one store his side of security, with a range of all the usual airport travel paraphernalia: tourist trinkets; inflatable pillows; dozens of supposedly essential gadgets; newspapers; magazines, and thankfully books.

Most of the titles available were new bestsellers, not usually Tim’s cup of tea, but he had been trying to widen his choices having enjoyed “ _ The Friends of Eddie Coyle _ ,” that Raylan had foisted on him. He spotted a section of Elmore Leonard books and remembered some of his Army buddies telling him they were good. He pulled out a couple of different titles to read the blurb on their backs. He ended up choosing “ _ The Moonshine War _ .”  It amused him that the book was set in Kentucky, so he decided to give it a try. He wondered idly if Raylan would be more approving of this one than his usual fantasy fare.

He bought a coffee for both himself and Raylan and settled himself down at a table with a good view of passengers emerging from baggage claim. It felt good to be able to sit for a while, drink a coffee, and get started on a new book. He was itching to get down to Harlan and find Loretta but could do nothing until Raylan arrived, so he decided he may as well relax while he was able.

  
  


Tim spotted Raylan immediately; there was no mistaking that cowboy hat. He was talking to one of the TSA agents, they shook hands, and Raylan gave the man one of this winning smiles. He turned around pulling out his phone, no doubt wondering if one of his old colleagues was parked up in the cell waiting area. 

Tim waited until Raylan was close enough that he wouldn’t have to shout to get his attention, before calling out to him. 

“Raylan Givens, you looking for a ride?”

Raylan smirked, his eyes bright. “Deputy Marshal, you here to pick me up?”   
  
Tim walked toward him and they hugged. It was a bit more than a manly half-hug, slap on the back kinda thing and Tim wondered when they’d begun that, having never done it before—neither of them being particularly demonstrative in that way.

Tim passed Raylan his coffee and nodded toward the security guard he had been talking to, “Trouble?”

“You know me!” Raylan smiled.

Tim furrowed his brow. “Anything I need worry about?” 

“Just a friendly chat, nothing more,” Raylan said airily, still smiling despite the frown that had settled on Tim’s face.

“Ok which way?” Raylan said gesturing toward the exits. Tim pointed him in the right direction and Raylan shouldered his carry-on bag before he walked off.

It had been eight months since they’d seen or even spoken to each other and Tim still wanted Raylan. Despite his anger about how he’d left, he couldn’t stop himself from checking out Raylan’s ass as he walked in front of him toward his truck.

  
  


Tim waited until they’d got out onto the highway and then began to tell Raylan what was happening. 

“Loretta’s gotten herself into some kind of shit. She’s missing.”

“Fuck Tim, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I left you a message,” Tim replied defensively.

“I deleted it, thought Dan had told me all there was to know.”

“Then you’ll know not to do that the next time.”

“Ok, so you gonna enlighten me?” Raylan asked.

“Yeah… yeah. Bob Sweeney, Constable Bob set cameras up all around Loretta’s place after you’d left. Figured it was the best way to check there was no trouble. It annoyed her to have a LEO dropping by all the time—said it was bad for business. He checked the video on Tuesday. There was footage of Loretta leaving the house but none of her returning. And he’d noticed a couple of vehicles he hadn’t seen before, so he went up there to take a look.”  Tim paused to concentrate on maneuvering through an intersection. 

“There was no sign of her so he gave me a call. I was down in Harlan yesterday tracking down a fugitive with Nelson…”

“So how’s Nelson?” Raylan asked.

“In the hospital.”

“What?”

“’Nother story, I’ll tell you  _ that _ sorry tale later.” Tim didn’t want to get into it.

“Ok, so what did you find?”

“Nothing at the house, but up in one of her sheds there were signs of a pretty big scuffle. You know she wouldn’t let herself be taken without putting up one hell of a fight.”

“That’s for certain,” Raylan agreed.   
  


  
Once they’d arrived at the courthouse they went straight to Art’s office, where he and Rachel were already seated. 

“Raylan.” Art stood and offered his hand. “Had hoped I wouldn’t get to see you again quite so soon.” 

“Art…” Raylan grinned shaking his hand, “you love having me around.” 

Art sighed and returned to his seat. 

“How’s it going Rachel, life treating you right?” Raylan asked as he too sat down. 

Tim leaned on the doorjamb watching them all. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go down and he really hoped Raylan and Art wouldn’t get into it. This was all about Loretta and he didn’t want them getting sidetracked by their own squabbles.

“Can we get on with this, I want to get to Harlan with enough time to get something done today.” Tim’s impatience was starting to get the better of him.

“Well take a seat then,” Art replied, “and close the door while you’re at it.” With them all settled Art began. 

“Now I know you’re all worried about Loretta and want to find her as soon as possible but we’ve got to consider all the possibilities. She might’ve just gone off with a friend, gone to visit her foster parents, there’s lots of possibilities.”

“Art, Bob’s already called around, that’s not what’s happening here,” Tim interrupted. “I saw the state of that drying shed. Loretta’s a neat freak, she wouldn’t have left it that way, not if she’d had a choice.”

“All right then, if you’re sure,” Art countered.

“I’m sure,” Tim answered giving him a steely look.

“Ok, what I’m gonna do then is give you both two days leave. If anyone asks, you’re on your own time, for now. I’ll have your vacation reinstated, if we can find another way.” 

Art sipped his coffee and continued, nodding toward Rachel. 

“Rachel is going to be your contact. She'll give you all the help she can from the office, within reason—it’s not an official operation as yet. You’ll be on your own so you’d better watch your backs and try not to get shot.”

Rachel acknowledged Art. “Yesterday, Tim and I were thinking that there may be outstanding warrants on some of the folks in Harlan County. I’m pretty sure I can find something that’ll give you a reason to go poking around down there. It’ll probably take a day or so to verify it if I do find anything, but if it is verified then you’ll be legitimately on fugitive recovery duty and therefore Marshal business. And shooting people will be ok…” 

“Don’t encourage them,” Art growled at her.

Tim had an inkling that Raylan was ready to start arguing with Art about their lack of support in the field so Tim put his hand on Raylan’s shoulder to quiet him.

“I get it that for you two there’s nothing more important than getting Loretta back safe, but you have to give me some leeway to get this done properly. Vasquez…” Art warned, “is bound to want to get his nose in on this—more specifically in on Raylan and that will only bring us all trouble. Rachel knows how to cover for you and Vasquez seems to trust her. She'll let me know what all’s going on.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ll try and get a warrant for you as soon as possible but please try to keep it under wraps until the paperwork is in order,” she chipped in. 

“That’s all, get outta here and find that girl,” Art dismissed them. They didn’t need any more encouragement.

  
  


“Well that’s shit,” Raylan announced as they pulled out of the courthouse parking lot.

“Yeah, but not exactly a surprise.” 

“We’ll be pretty limited and Vasquez will have us over a barrel if he gets word.” 

“Rachel will come through will something,” Tim said trying to be positive. It was a pretty vain attempt given how little they knew about Loretta’s circumstances.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed if you think it’ll do any good,” Raylan offered half-heartedly.   
Tim huffed out a paltry laugh, as he increased his speed. The weight of the situation was bearing down on the both of them.

  
  


As they turned off the interstate an idea occurred to Tim.

“Raylan, I heard from an old Army buddy about a week or so back. He’s looking for work. Name’s Zac Thompson. He’s a good man, capable, steady. What d’you say I give him a call?”

“Just out?” 

“No. He’s been back a while.”

“We could do with the help if it gets messy. What’s he been doing?”

“Wet work, mostly.” As soon as he said it Tim wondered if he shouldn’t have kept that little gem of information to himself.

“Wet work, shit Tim, we can’t.” Raylan stared out of the window for a minute. Then sighed and asked, “You sure he’s all right?” 

“Yeah, saw him not so long ago, he’s good. Probably more stable than me.”

Raylan looked hard at Tim for a moment. Tim was pretty sure he’d let himself in for an awkward conversation at some point in the near future.

“Art won’t like it,” Raylan warned.

“I can deputize him.” Tim gave Raylan a mischievous smile.

“I’m not sure that’d help. Art’s damn persnickety about that kind of thing.”

“That’s because you deputised Dewey Crowe,” Tim reminded him. He got a dirty look for that bit of snark. 

“Call him anyway, where’s he at?”

“Tennessee, Knoxville I think.”

“Good, the more the merrier,” Raylan replied somewhat sarcastically.   


 

 

They pulled into the Comfort Inn in Harlan, having decided beforehand that it’d be a waste of time travelling back and forth to Lexington. Not to mention it’d keep Raylan out of Vasquez’s sight.

Raylan walked up to the desk. “Good afternoon, sir. Two rooms?” The receptionist asked looking between him and Tim.

“One room’ll do. Two beds?” Raylan turned to look at Tim. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, “Two beds.”   
  
  
Having checked into the room, they drove back into the center of Harlan town to meet up with Constable Bob Sweeney at a cafe he’d picked out. It looked a little past its best, faded and somewhat forlorn, but it was off the main drag and provided them a certain amount of privacy.

They sat themselves down at a table to wait.

“Bob,” Raylan called out as he walked into the cafe. He and Tim stood to shake the constable’s hand.

“How’s things? You all fixed up again?” Raylan asked looking him up and down.

“Took a while Raylan, I’ve got some impressive scars.”

“Not the place to show them off, Bob,” Raylan teased raising his eyebrows.

“Raylan, I wouldn’t, I…” Bob spluttered to a halt when he clocked the smirk on Raylan’s face.

“So Bob, tell us what you know about Loretta so Raylan can get up to speed.”

“Sure,” Bob agreed, before taking a quick swig of the coffee they’d bought for him.

“I think we should get on up to Noble’s Holler, I can fill Raylan in on the way.”

“Limehouse has some information for us?” Tim asked.

“Not sure to be honest, but I’ve heard he’s protective of her. She’s most likely got her money with him.”

“We should get going then, see what he’s got for us,” Raylan said finishing his coffee. “I’ll ride with you Bob. Tim can follow us.”

  
  


The cars pulled up outside Limehouse’s BBQ joint. They all got out and the marshals strode toward the place while Bob hung back. Raylan walked in first. Tim followed but stopped in the doorway. A pang of anxiety made him rest his hand on his sidearm. He wasn’t sure what kind of reception they’d get and he wanted to keep an eye on the surroundings. 

“Deputy Givens, ain’t we seen the last of you yet?” Limehouse asked as he looked up.

“Limehouse,” Raylan nodded. “I was hoping for some information.” 

“You just don’t know when to stop,” he said shaking his head.

“Y’all just wanna be left alone, I get that, but I reckon this’ll get it done.” 

“I’m listening.” 

“You acquainted with Loretta McCready?” 

Limehouse nodded carefully.

“She’s missing,” Raylan told him and took a breath. 

“And you think I might know something about that.” Limehouse raised his eyebrows. 

“I know you know something ’bout most things.”

“What’s y’alls business with her?” Limehouse fixed him with a sidelong stare.

Tim looked at Limehouse, pretty sure he already knew the answer but he couldn’t fault the man for checking. He’d have done the same himself. 

“I…” Raylan started. “It ain’t Marshal business but I’m fond of her... like to know she’s safe. Constable Bob and Deputy Gutterson here…” Raylan gestured over his shoulder to where Tim was standing. “They’ve been keeping an eye on her, makin’ sure she don’t get in any trouble she can’t get herself out off.” 

A faint smile eased across Limehouse’s face and he nodded for Raylan to take a seat. 

“You want your Deputy to hear this?” Limehouse asked.

Raylan turned and raised his eyebrows at Tim who wandered into the store and leaned on the counter at Raylan’s back. 

“Young Loretta may have upset some people some. There’s talk those hill people you got living in yo’ daddy's house don’t take kindly to her growing weed on their land.” 

“Shit… and it’s still my land.” 

Limehouse and Tim both raised their eyebrows at him.

“I know, not the point…” Raylan frowned. “You think they’ve taken her up the mountain?” 

“Best guess,” Limehouse said.

Limehouse made some calls and explained to Tim and Raylan it was likely they were right, she’d been kidnapped by Raylan’s kin. Said he wouldn’t get involved further than that, after all they were still Feds but he volunteered Errol to find the place she was being held. 

He assured them Errol was their man. “Didn’t like his momma much when he was small. Used to take off up that mountain any chance he got. Knows it like the back of his hand.”   
  
  
  


Back in the car, Raylan looked perturbed.

“Goddamnit Tim, how did this happen? I gave the house to Cope, I didn’t think he’d get territorial about the land. Why didn’t he just call me?”

“Come on Raylan, hill people… not territorial? They’d kill you soon as see you and likely as not, wouldn’t call. More an act first, don't give a shit later kinda deal.”

“Then why didn’t Loretta call me if something was going on? Or you, or Bob? D’you think she knew there was a problem before being kidnapped?” 

“Maybe, probably thought she could deal with it herself.” 

“Yeah, it’s easy to forget just how stubborn she can be.” Raylan went quiet before he asked, “Do you think she’s still alive?” 

“I don’t know Raylan, I really don’t.” Tim breathed out heavily.

A minute or so later Tim added, “Loretta’s tough but if they wanted her dead, she’ll be dead already.”   
  
  
  


Raylan called Rachel as they headed toward Arlo’s house. He wanted to give her the heads-up about Cope. He suggested she concentrate on him and his kin in her search for a warrant. Rachel agreed, then told him Art wanted to talk to them. Raylan put the cell on speaker, so they could both listen. 

“You’ve got a lead?” Art asked.

“Yeah it seems she’s likely been kidnapped and hidden up the mountain somewhere,” Raylan said.

“By who?”

Tim filled him in. “Raylan gave Arlo’s house to Cope, kin on his mother’s side. He lived up on the mountain till the coal company took the top off it. Him and his family got it into their heads Loretta’s stealing their land. We think they’ve taken her.”

“What makes you think they’ve taken her? Why not just go on down there and talk to them or get Raylan to talk to them. I can’t see the problem.”

Tim huffed in frustration, his eyes going deadly serious. “They’re hill people Art, they nearly killed Raylan just for being on their land and he’s kin. They shoot first, ask questions later… possibly. And they’re damn territorial. If they’ve got her up in them mountains we may never find her. Shit, boss, there may be nothing left to find!”

Raylan interrupted, “We’re on our way to the house now. Should know more about what’s going on then.”

“All right, but keep us informed, I don’t want any surprises,” Art said before ending the call.

 

They stopped in front of the old house and headed up to the porch. 

“Cope,” Raylan called out, “Need to speak with you.”

They heard movement inside and then a young woman opened the door and talked to them through the screen.

“Who are you and what d’you want?”

“Ma’am, I’m Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens and this here is Deputy Gutterson.” Raylan pointed to Tim who’d stopped just behind him. “This used to be my daddy’s house. I passed it on to Cope after he died. I was hoping to talk to Cope, he about?”

She nodded and opened the screen door, “I’m Jenna, I’m his wife. He ain’t here, gone off up the mountain some place. You want to come inside?”

Raylan walked up to the door and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, withdrawing his hand when he realized it’d be difficult to shake while she was holding her baby in her arms. The baby was mewling and crying up a storm.

Jenna apologized, “Can’t hear myself think he’s so… no, he’s precious. I know I shouldn’t complain but he’s teething and I ain’t been getting much sleep.” She passed the child to Raylan asking, “Can you take him?”  

“Maybe Tim could take him and we could have a chat,” he said as he gave the baby to Tim.

At first Tim held the baby at arms length but he checked himself, it wasn’t the first time he’d been around babies. He wrapped him up tight to his chest and wandered into the kitchen. Holding the baby in one hand he washed the other and  touched one of his fingers to the baby's mouth so he could suck or chew on it as Tim gently rubbed his gums. The child quieted and Tim went to sit on the porch swing with him. He figured the movement might help him sleep. 

With the baby quiet, Tim could hear the conversation inside through the open window. The lack of crying hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jenna or Raylan. 

“I didn’t think he’d be able to stop him crying—it’s a relief,” she confessed to Raylan.

“To be honest, nor did I,” he admitted. 

Jenna explained very little. “Cope’s been going up the mountain pretty regular. Not sure why, the coal’s poisoned most everything up there.”

“D’you know when he’ll be back?” Raylan asked.

“Never tells me. I see him when I see him.” 

 

As they’d followed Jenna into the house, Tim had noticed bruises around her neck, on her forearms and the faint coloring on her face of a black eye not quite healed. He’d raised his eyebrows at Raylan checking to see if he’d seen them too. Raylan grimaced and gave him a slight nod.  Tim was pretty sure Cope was treating her badly.

Even though it seemed Jenna had said all she was going to say, Tim continued to listen in, hearing Raylan tell her a little about his childhood in the house. His habit of listening for Arlo at all times—never unaware of where the man was when he was home. How he hid when his daddy came back to the house until he could judge his mood, hoping he wouldn’t get beat on again. Tim wasn’t surprised by what Raylan was saying—he knew Arlo was an asshole but hearing it first-hand made his stomach churn.

As Raylan’s tale was drawing to a close, Tim came in from the porch. He didn’t want Raylan launching into another story trying to get Jenna on his side. The less Harlan knew about their presence there the better, besides the baby had fallen asleep. He handed him back to Jenna with a shy smile before he and Raylan left quietly. 

 

“She tell you much?” Tim asked as they walked toward the car. 

“Not much. Just that he’s been up in the hills a lot.

“I reckon he’s been hitting her, I hoped telling her about my daddy might have her thinking of me as an ally, encourage her to talk some more,” Raylan told him.

“You think it’s the house—some evil spirit that makes…” Tim was interrupted by Raylan thumping him in the arm.

“You’ve been reading too much of that fantasy shit. Thought I could get her to open up if she thought I understood her a little.”   
  
When they reached the car, Raylan stopped and looked at Tim perplexed. “What d’you do to that baby?”

“Vulcan nerve pinch.”

Raylan glared at him.

“He was teething. Gave him my finger to bite on and rubbed his gums a little.”

“How’d you know how to do that. No don’t answer… but you’re first choice babysitter when you get down to Florida.” Raylan slipped into the car.

“I ain’t coming to Florida to be your fuckin’ au pair,” Tim snarled.

“Huh. I like the idea of fucking the au pair.”

When he’d approached the car, Tim had been sporting the slightest of smiles—kinda pleased with himself for work well done—but hearing what Raylan had to say washed the look off his face. He stared out over the land and not for the first time wondered how Raylan did that, how he knew that he had been thinking seriously about moving south. 

“Shit, Raylan… you’re ’n asshole,” Tim said as he dropped down into the driver’s seat. 

“Why? What I do?” 

Tim shook his head as Raylan tried to look innocent.   


 

  
As they headed back to the motel, Tim looked over at Raylan in the passenger seat. He seemed exhausted. Tim felt pretty wrung out himself. They’d made some progress but still hadn’t found Loretta. Tim had promised himself they’d get her back but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it.

Raylan dropped his bag on one of the beds in their room. Tim hovered near the door.

“What, you worried what they’ll think?” Raylan asked. 

“You’re not bothered what they think about homosexuality in Harlan anymore? You’ve changed,” Tim said.

“Maybe so. Have you?”  

“Not so anyone’d notice.”

“Still mad at me?” Raylan asked.

“You left.” 

“And I left you my number.” 

“Yeah, then you shacked up with Winona again.” Tim scowled at him.

“It didn’t work out,” Raylan protested.

“How many more times you gonna try?” Tim said raising his voice. He needed Raylan to know he hated it.

“We’re done. Never gonna work,” Raylan insisted.

“And your daughter?”

“Willa,” Raylan clarified. Tim wouldn’t admit it but he didn’t need to be reminded of her name. 

“Ok, Willa. What happens to Willa?”

“She gets to be beautiful and funny and stupidly smart.” 

Tim scoffed knowing that Raylan was trying to halt the conversation. He let him.

 

“So which one d’you want?” Tim asked pointing to the beds.  

“Don’t care.” Raylan shrugged and sat on the edge of the one he’d left his bag on.

Tim squared his shoulders and looked down at Raylan, “You think I’m a sure thing?”

“No… maybe, I want…” Raylan closed his eyes for a moment as his body slumped, his hands fell to his sides, and he gripped one edge of the bed. Tim watched his chest rise and fall as he took several deep breaths. When he continued, he didn’t sound at all self-assured.  

“Shit Tim, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Tim thought he looked hopeful and at least a bit contrite.

“Didn’t think to call?” Tim asked, trying to hang on to his resolve, his anger.

“Didn’t know what to say.” 

“Me neither,” Tim sighed, he had to admit to that.

“Drink?” Raylan asked as he pulled a bottle of Very Old Barton out of his bag. Tim picked up the bottle and looked at the price.

“You bought the good shit, then!”  he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Just ’cause it’s cheap, don’t mean it ain’t no good. You want some or not?”

“Sure.” Tim brought a couple of glasses over to him.   
  
They drank—just enough to take the edge off their day. They could both hold their liquor. More importantly, they couldn’t afford to get drunk, they needed to be at their best the next day. It would kill Tim if he made a mistake and got someone hurt or worse.

Tim made Raylan tell him about Miami—“Any of it, all of it.”  

They mainly talked about Willa, it seemed the safest thing to do. Eventually however, the previous subject came back around.

“How’s the ‘being out in Miami’ thing working for you?” Tim asked.

“What about you, you been getting any action?” Raylan countered.

Neither answered. They drank some more and settled for talking about work for a while. 

Tim knew that whatever Raylan wanted, he was pretty much going to get it. For all Tim’s thoughts of restraint and his anger at how Raylan had gone back to Winona, his resolve was not that strong. From Ava Crowder to their own one-off, Tim had noted that it wasn’t that Raylan couldn’t take no for an answer, it was just that he didn’t often have to.   
Tim wasn’t worried he’d be rejected either, not for a while yet, but the certainty in Raylan’s voice outside the house when he’d talked about Tim moving to Florida had riled him. It was a big move to make when it was for a man he wasn’t sure he trusted. With a gun, it was easy to rely on Raylan, but his track record was pretty poor when it came to relationships.

 

Tim went to take a shower—mostly in an effort to get some space. It had been a long day and being clean and hopefully more relaxed was not unwelcome either. The shower was good and hot and the pressure of the water on his back relieved some of his tension. He stood still for a while and let the spray pummel his muscles and he allowed his mind to go blank. After a time, however, the question Raylan had asked crept back into his brain. Tim was a little embarrassed about the answer, he didn’t want it to sound like he’d been pining after Raylan or that no one else would do. 

He’d snagged some body wash from Raylan’s dopp kit he’d pulled out of his travel bag and left by the sink. He hadn’t checked the label before getting into the shower so he squeezed a tiny amount of the gel into his hand. He brought it up to his nose carefully and smelled it. His eyes flew open and his head reared back—shit, it had a punch. It said Mint Hair and Body on the label and Tim wasn’t at all sure what to make of it. Although once he got over the initial zing of the scent, he had to admit it smelled good, fresh and zesty. It’d definitely wake you up in the mornings. He added some more to his hand and began to wash away the day’s dirt. 

He rubbed up and down his chest and abdomen, creating bubbles in his body hair, and on down his legs and wondered why it really was that he hadn’t hooked up with anybody over the last few months. 

He reckoned the main issues were nothing to do with Raylan: he was shy when it came to meeting strangers, he didn’t particularly like gay bars, and he wouldn’t be seen dead in one in Lexington.

Tim soaped up his back as best he could and down his arms, scrubbing at his underarms. He knew that some people liked the heavy musk of manly sweat. He let out a childish laugh at the thought of 'manly sweat', picturing body builders with muscles in all the wrong places and ridiculous spray tans. Clean was always much more of a turn on for him. The Army, he concluded, was to blame for that choice as with so many others.  

Raylan’s question pushed to the front of his mind again, he knew what the main issues were that had led to his restraint but that wasn’t quite the whole of it. Nothing much scared him, but being outed against his will was something he'd avoided like the plague. Not because he was uncomfortable about being gay, but because he was a very private man. His sexual orientation was not something that his colleagues needed to know and he couldn't bear the thought of being a topic of conversation in the office. As far as he could work out though, Raylan didn’t mind that kind of attention. In fact, he was pretty sure that Raylan revelled in any kind of attention except possibly the kind that got you shot.

Pouring another dollop of body wash into his hand he reached down and smeared it all over his balls and up his dick. “Jesus Christ,” he shouted and then hoped to god the water had drowned out the noise and Raylan hadn't heard. Initially his sensitive skin had burned but as he stood their somewhat shocked, it turned into a rather odd but pleasant tingle. His dick twitched and he ran his hand over it and stroked. This time he groaned instead of shouting, it felt fantastic. As he massaged his balls and sank into the sensation, he couldn't help but think of Raylan doing this in the shower every morning. He stopped himself, he really didn't want to go around sporting a semi when he only had a towel to cover himself.

Trying to block the images of Raylan jacking off in the shower, he went back to the damned question. Largely he hadn’t bothered searching out any kind of sex, (not even a quick blow job from some random guy), because he hadn't needed to. It wasn’t because he’d been missing Raylan, which he had, but because nobody of interest had come his way and abstinence wasn’t really a problem for him, years in the military had seen to that. 

Tim washed his hair quickly with more of the body wash, making a special effort to keep it out of his eyes—he was fairly certain it would blind him, if only temporarily. He towelled himself off, trying to avoid his junk as much as possible. He still couldn't quite banish the images he’d concocted of Raylan in the shower.

The question needed an answer and eventually he decided there was no point being coy about it. He may as well be straight with Raylan, he could hardly hope for honesty from him if he wasn't prepared to give the same.

He came back out into the room with just the towel wrapped around his waist—in his rush to get out of Raylan's presence he’d forgotten to grab any clothes. He hadn’t expected the hungry look he saw in Raylan’s eyes as he watched Tim move around the room.    
Tim wasn’t self-conscious about his body and the room was warm so he didn’t hurry to find clothes; the look in Raylan’s eyes did not encourage him to dress either. 

“You asked if I’d been getting any action,” Tim said, watching Raylan’s face carefully. “There’s been no one since you.” 

“Jeez Tim,” Raylan sounded shocked, “Get over here and let me blow you! I never got how you do without… it’d drive me insane.”

“Yeah well,” Tim felt his cheeks warm, “I’m kinda glad I don’t have your libido. And I’m pretty much insane already.”

“Insane how?” Raylan wondered aloud.

“PTSD… and a chunk of stupidity.”

 

Tim slowly wandered over toward Raylan, not entirely sure why he was doing it. He didn’t want to seem easy. He was still holding on to at least some of his anger but it had been a long time and Raylan’s offer was hard to resist. There was no good reason, he decided, to look a gift horse in the mouth. That thought for some reason made him smirk and dragged a little of his confidence back. If Raylan wanted him, he wasn’t going to refuse, even if it all turned to shit in the end. 

Raylan sat on the end of one of the beds. As Tim approached, he spread his legs and pulled him in between them. Reaching forward he ran his hands down Tim’s back. It was wet from his damp hair dripping intermittently down his spine. Raylan smiled up at him, skimming through the water until his hands settled just above his hips. Tim’s breath hitched anticipating Raylan’s next move. He pulled Tim’s towel off and let it drop to the floor leaving Tim standing naked in front of him beginning to get hard. Raylan ran his eyes up and down Tim’s body, obviously appreciating the sight. Tim watched him, still not touching him back, but breathing more erratically and feeling himself react to the attention. 

Raylan patted the bed next to him and Tim sat sideways, facing Raylan feeling uncertain, as if he didn’t know what to do but would expire if he didn’t get to do it soon. Raylan moved around tucking one leg under himself to better reach out to Tim. Leaning in, he nestled into the crux of Tim’s neck breathing him in and kissing his skin softly. Tim huffed out a breath and closed his eyes, he stretched his neck to the side slightly and let himself enjoy Raylan’s mouth on him. 

Tim felt the loss of the warmth on his neck as Raylan moved away. He slowly opened his eyes to see Raylan smiling at him and his own lips quirked upwards.

“I like seeing you this mellow,” Raylan whispered, “Your eyes are bright blue.” 

He lifted his hand and stroked Tim’s temple gently, moving his long fingers down through his hair to the back of his neck. Holding Tim in place, he pressed their lips together.

The kiss freed something Tim had been holding back for months and trying hard to smother; he’d thought he would never see Raylan again. When he’d found out about Loretta all he’d thought about was how to get her back, not that maybe he’d get to touch Raylan again.

Tim shifted closer slotting himself between Raylan’s legs and stroked his thighs as Raylan nipped and sucked at his bottom lip. His jeans were old, faded to a pale blue and Tim loved the feeling of the soft denim as his splayed fingers rubbed up and back. His thumbs dipped along the inner seams and teased Raylan’s cock through the threadbare cloth. Sighing, he let Raylan into his mouth and moaned; it had indeed been too long. 

Breathing heavily Tim leaned back surveying the man in front of him. 

“You’re still dressed,” he said, sounding vexed. 

Raylan didn’t need to be told twice, he moved backwards, nearly falling off the bed and struggled out of his clothes, as he tried to achieve his aim as quickly as possible. 

The expanse of Raylan’s naked skin made Tim smile and he let his hands wander over it, sweeping across his nipples and pushing into the muscles of his back. He bent forward and bit into Raylan's shoulder and felt him shiver. Pleased with the reaction, he bit and kissed and licked some more, loving that he could make Raylan relax and press into his body. 

“So, you gonna get on with it or d’you want me to?” Tim asked, raising his eyebrows and looking down at his dick.

Raylan looked at him for a moment then smirked and slid to the floor, he crawled in between Tim’s legs and took him in hand. Tim gasped a quick breath, his head falling back and his eyes closing at the relief of having Raylan touch him at last. 

“You sound kinda keen,” Raylan said, drawing out the last word then smiling widely at Tim. 

“And you’re a fuckin’ tease!” Tim bit back.

True to Tim’s description, Raylan stroked him slowly, so gently that Tim could barely feel his touch. It felt glorious to start with but became frustrating as Raylan persisted, so that when Raylan looked up at him, Tim was not amused. The expression on his face must have given it away because Raylan laughed. Even less amused, Tim cuffed him around the back of his head. He rested his hand there to stroke very gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Tim knew from the last time they’d been together that Raylan liked his hair pulled hard, but he decided he was gonna get nothing until his cock was hitting the back of Raylan’s throat.

Tim groaned as Raylan licked around the head of his cock, his tongue concentrated on some of Tim’s favorite spots. The idea that Raylan remembered what he liked made Tim shudder and his cock grow harder. Raylan slowly sucked Tim further into his mouth, humming to himself and sending a buzz rippling through Tim. 

“Damn, I’ve missed this!” Tim murmured as Raylan rolled his balls. He yanked on Raylan’s hair, holding it tight and with the pressure pulling his head forward. Raylan relaxed his throat and swallowed him. Tim’s hips jerked forward into the warm wetness of Raylan’s mouth as he moaned around him heightening the pleasure. Tim kept on rocking his hips, thrusting into Raylan’s mouth, building up a rhythm they both seemed to enjoy. 

Tim’s balls clenched and his back arched.

“Raylan, Ray I’m gonna…” But it was too late and Raylan swallowed around him as Tim came down his throat. Tim fell limp and flopped back onto the bed, his chest heaving as he breathed through the aftershocks. He reached out for Raylan and finding his hand he pulled him up onto the bed beside him.

“Man, I needed that,” Tim admitted moving over closer to Raylan so they could kiss.  

“Do you want the same?” he asked Raylan after a few minutes. 

“Nah, thanks, just use your hand. I’m pretty close.”

Tim stretched out his arm and smoothed his palm down the length of Raylan’s body until he found his cock. It was full and hard and Tim shuffled around to get the best angle. He set a fairly slow place not wanting to cheat Raylan out of his pleasure but after a few minutes, he heard Raylan rasp out, “Goddamn it Tim. Pick it up, already,” as his hips pitched up into Tim’s fist. 

“Now who’s  _ keen _ ?” Tim laughed but he increased the pressure slightly and sped up until Raylan jerked and gasped and came all over Tim’s hand.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [ Cher ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherlocked/pseuds/Cherlocked)  
> for her help.
> 
> Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post than I expected. Thank you for the kudos and the lovely comments.


	3. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel is the Boss!  
> It's on.

 

   
  


Tim's cell rang just after six the next morning, waking him. 

“Rachel? What time is it?” Tim mumbled sleepily.

“Late enough, knew you’d be awake.” He could practically hear her satisfied grin at catching him still in bed. 

“Barely. Found anything?”

“I’ve got a warrant for Cope, seems we were right to look.”

 

Rachel’s hunch that Cope would have an outstanding federal warrant against his name had come to fruition with surprising ease.  It wasn't particularly unusual, folks had been running drugs over those mountains into Virginia for decades. 

“It seems that although at the time, his general whereabouts, in the hills east of Harlan County, was known, no one wanted to bare the cost of searching him out. Besides, there are plenty of tales of people going up there and never coming back,” Rachel explained.

“Well thank god for budgetary constraints,” Tim drawled.

“Just you make sure you come back.”

“Should I bring Raylan back with me?” he asked sarcastically.

“If you must.” Rachel huffed.

 

Tim set about convincing Rachel to meet them in Corbin, just off the I75, to pick up the paperwork. 

“It’s about half way, it’ll save us both time,” Tim said.

Rachel wasn't entirely convinced but she agreed. “Ok I guess, you got a place in mind?”

“Yeah, there’s a good coffee shop on Main Street. Called something like Coffee and Me.”

“Good, I’ll find it. When d’you hope to get there?”

“Around eight, quarter after,” Tim guessed, “That suit?”

“Sounds good. Listen, Art is pleased it’s legit Marshal business now, but he still needs you two to behave. Vasquez is prowling, he’s heard Raylan’s back in town.”

“Yeah, Rachel, we’re professionals... it’ll be fine.” 

“Well, I hope it is, for your sake. ” 

 

They’d ended up sleeping together in the same bed, wrapped naked around each other. Tim had forgotten how much Raylan had curled up into him the night before he left for Miami. 

He’d slept much better than usual, yet some small part of his mind warned that he shouldn’t get used to such comfort and security. That Raylan was as likely as not going to disappear out of his life again soon. But Tim knew it was already too late for him to be careful with his feelings, and most likely had been since this thing had started. He was going to have to figure out if there could be anything lasting between them. 

But first they needed to find Loretta.   

Tim disentangled himself from Raylan, pulling the sheets and bedspread back up over him. He looked peaceful and Tim couldn’t bring himself to wake a him. He knew Raylan hadn’t slept the night before last and unless he’d caught a few minutes on the plane he’d have been up for nearly forty-eight hours. 

Having washed up and got dressed, Tim wrote a quick note for Raylan before he left. There was no need for both of them to go, just to pick up some paperwork.

  
  


Tim walked back into their motel room to find Raylan dozing.

“Were you thinking of staying in bed all day?” Tim joked.

“Didn’t seem any point in getting up. Nothing much to do till you got back.”

Tim huffed, ‘You could’ve got showered and dressed.”

“I’m showered,” Raylan protested, shaking out his hair like a wet dog. Tim noticed he’d moved to the other bed.

“Maybe I was thinking of round two,” Raylan smirked at him.

“Well you’re out of luck, I’m ready to get going and I brought you breakfast.”

“Ok, ok… but you’re no fun!”

“It’s ten-thirty Raylan, get dressed.”

“We’re on leave.”

“Not since Art saw this warrant we’re not.”

“What warrant - did Rachel come through?”

 

“Warrant for the arrest of one Mr. Cope Grant, last seen in the hills east of Harlan, Kentucky,” Tim said as he passed Raylan the documents.

“Cope. Well that makes things simple,” Raylan paused, “but dammit I’ll be in all kinds of shit if Vasquez finds out I gave Arlo’s house to a fugitive,” he sighed. “You try doing something nice…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Tim drawled, “and it lands you in the shit.”

“When was it issued?” Raylan asked.

“’Bout fifteen years ago—not something we’d’ve known about if Rachel hadn’t gone searching.”

“We’d better get our stories straight then so Vasquez doesn’t find it fishy.”

“Rachel thought of that—she found a couple other outdated warrants on Harlan County residents, past and present. Gonna say she was trying to tie up loose ends on all outstanding Harlan-related stuff now Boyd’s gone.”  

“Nice and tidy. Our AUSA will like that.”

“That’s what we thought,” Tim agreed.

 

Having dressed, Raylan sat at the small table in their room and claimed one of the coffees Tim had brought back with him.

“So if we’re trying not to upset Vasquez, you’d better tell me some more about this Ranger friend of yours, Zac is it?” 

“Yeah, Zac Thompson,” Tim agreed. “But we call him ‘Gray’, on account of his hair and beard turning white in his twenties.”

“You sure he’s on no one’s radar?” Raylan asked.

“Far as I know.”

“Done any shady jobs for the alphabet soup?”

“He’s pretty sure he hasn’t. And they’d probably want to keep it quiet if he had.”

“True, or they’d silence him for good,” Raylan said. “Give me his history then, where’d you meet him? Where’d he serve? What’d he do? The whole nine yards.”

“Works out and drinks too much,” Tim started to describe Gray. 

“Sounds pretty normal.” Raylan smirked.

“Good-looking, taller than you.” Tim smirked back at him.

“Well now, you thinking of dumping me already?”

“Would if I could—nicer’un you, too.”

“I’m nice…” Raylan said, looking offended, then dipped his head and gave Tim a skewed smile, “least when I’m not being an asshole.”

“Is he a sniper, like you?” Raylan asked.

“No. Ranger Medic. He was with me on my first couple tours but not since.” 

“Could be useful—I’d guess Loretta’s gonna need help,” Raylan said.

“Last time I saw him he was talking about finding someplace inconspicuous… out of the way, to lie low for a bit. Shrug off the shit that comes with wet work. Let people forget about him, or assume he’s dead.” 

“So no more killing to order then?”

“Not if he can help it. I was thinking Harlan might not be a bad place for him now the heat’s died down. Nobody much left around here to cause him trouble,” Tim suggested.

“Someone’ll move in, soon enough,” Raylan gave a careworn smile. “But it’s not a bad choice for a while. It’s practically bred into these folks not to talk anything of import to strangers.”

“He thinks doing us this favor may help him figure out what’s next.”

“Hmm, might,” Raylan said. “Better call him again then, tell him it’s on. Get him down here today, so we can all meet up. Get this thing done.” 

“Sure.”

 

After breakfast Raylan and Tim headed down to Arlo’s place on the off chance that Cope had returned.

Jenna didn’t let them inside this time—talked to them through the screen door. “He ain’t been back, lord only knows what they do up there. Tol’ me last year there weren’t nothin’ left in them hills to hunt.” 

Tim began to think she’d heard why they’d been ’round asking questions. He knew they were gambling on her not having contacted Cope but it was a chance they’d have to take.     

  
  


They headed back toward Harlan town but didn’t stop.

“Where we going Tim?” Raylan asked.

“To meet up with Constable Bob and the others.” 

“Jeez, I know that but we’re heading out of town.” 

“Yup.”

Almost immediately Tim slowed the SUV and pulled off the highway. There was a moment or two before Raylan noticed the big sign declaring ‘Ice Cream’, but when he did, he smiled.

“That’s uncharacteristically nice of you, Tim,” he said as they pulled up in front of the store.

“I’m  _ nice _ ,” he replied, trying to look offended until his smile won out. 

 

They wandered through the doors and spotted Bob already seated in a booth toward the back.

“Bob,” Raylan greeted him.

“Raylan,” he replied, nodding at Tim. “No sign of the others as yet. Who exactly are we waiting on?”

Raylan sat down and answered, “Errol should be over from Noble’s Holler and this friend of Tim’s—what d’you call him, Graybeard or something?”

“Just Gray.” Tim said as he looked through the menu.

 

A waitress came to the table and picked up their coffee orders. “No ice cream?” she asked. 

“Vanilla for me,” Raylan said with quite a flirty smile.

“Toppings?” she asked and when Raylan shook his head she offered sauce. Again he refused. 

“Are you sure? No nuts or sprinkles—the toffee sauce is good.” She looked at him perplexed. “Seems awful boring just vanilla.”

Tim looked up at her and said, “He is kinda boring.”

“Thought you were nice.” Raylan gave him a disappointed look.

“Guess I am, when I’m not being an asshole!”

Raylan kicked his shin under the table.

 

Errol sauntered in not so long after, ordering an ice cream sundae with toffee sauce, much to the waitress’s delight. 

As she walked away with the order Tim leaned over to Raylan and said in his best attempt at a girly voice, “Momma told me never trust a man who won’t eat no toffee sauce.” Bob gave him a dirty look. 

 

When Gray arrived Tim stood up and they hugged, clapping each other on the back. 

“Good to see you Guts, how ya doing?”

“Not bad, not bad, ‘cept for this shit.”

“Guts?” Raylan asked, amusement all across his face.

“Yeah,” Gray replied giving Raylan an unimpressed look, “He’s kinda hardcore.”

Tim turned his head away thinking ‘Well that was a good start’. 

 

They did introductions and despite the potential for conflict with them coming from either side of the law, they quickly settled down to business—Loretta seemingly more important to them than any differences.

“You have any luck finding Cope, Errol?” Raylan started the ball rolling. 

“Had a scout around up the mountain, didn’t take much to find your man. He was camped out with a couple of his kin. Looks like they were up there trying to find that money Boyd’s woman’s s’posed to’ve buried. There’s dozens of holes dug all round old Grube’s place.” 

Bob asked, “Was there any sign of Loretta?” 

“Well... Think I heard crying sounds, maybe you’d call it wailing, coming from a small shack not far from their camp but I didn’t want to risk being caught so I didn’t get a close look. I reckon it’s her, can’t think they’ve got anyone else stashed up there.”

A ripple of agreement ran through the group of men. It occurred to Tim that despite her sometimes harsh demeanor, Loretta had half of Harlan on her side—not bad going for a girl her age.

 

They decided to start off around dusk. There wouldn’t be many hours of darkness and they wanted to be in place well before first light. They knew Cope’s people knew the terrain better than them but it was worth trying to get the jump on them.

Raylan’s car was the only one they’d leave near the trailhead figuring a group of vehicles could alert Cope to their presence.  Errol would move the others out of sight once they’d headed off.

“It’d be in our favor if he thinks Raylan is acting alone. We’ll need all the advantage we can get,” Tim suggested. 

Raylan nodded, “The times I’ve been up there before I was by himself. Cope’s a loose cannon though, we don’t know what he’s got in mind. Don’t underestimate him.” 

“Do you think Jenna’s enlightened him?” Tim asked glancing at Raylan and back to the others.

“It’s a gamble if she’s as under the thumb as she looks,” Raylan answered. “If we’re right and the kidnapping was to get me back in Harlan, he’ll have an idea that I’m coming anyway. Getting set up there before he’s expecting me is the key.”

Errol got out a hand-drawn map and detailed a roundabout route up towards Grubes place. “With any luck you’ll get away without being spotted.” 

They agreed a time for Errol to call in the local LEOs once they had Loretta safe. He’d be out of sight somewhere near the trailhead and more than likely hear any gunfire. There was bound to be some. Even still they set a time. It was only a ballpark but none of them were sure if there’d be cell coverage up on the mountain. Limehouse had made it clear he didn’t want Errol to be directly involved. Both Tim and Raylan had been happy with that, they’d helped enough.

 

As they left the cafe Raylan spoke up, “Ok, I guess that’s it. Gear up and we’ll meet just before we lose the light.” Raylan’s voice had turned deep, Tim supposed he was trying for authority. “Anyone got anything else?” 

“Just these,” Bob said dragging a bag from the trunk of his car.  He dropped a small black object into each of their hands. “These are a bluetooth earpieces, I need you to link them to your cellphones.”

“Not me,” Errol said passing the thing back to Bob. “I don’t wanna know what y’all do up there. Just let me know she’s safe when you’re done.”

Tim nodded to Errol and he took off.

“What do they do?” Raylan asked looking confused. Tim and Gray exchanged a look.

“They’ll allow us to talk to each other and hear what’s going on around us.” Tim explained. 

“So how do I link it, did you say?” Raylan asked Bob.

Bob held out his hand. “Give me your cell Raylan, I’ll do yours.” 

“Ok Raylan,” Bob was focusing on him, Tim and Gray knew what they were doing.

“I’ll set up a conference call with y’all and you’ll be able to hear what everyone is hearing. If we keep the chatter to a minimum we’ll be able to hear the people around us too. That make sense?”

“Yeah, I think so. Like a walkie-talkie?” Raylan asked.

“Not quite, the line will be open the whole time. No need for PTT.”

 

Tim turned to the constable with a smile. “Good work Bob, nice thinking. Thanks.”

Bob had done them proud once again and it helped ease Tim’s fears. 

“Should keep us all in contact, don’t want anyone left behind,” Bob said smiling at Tim. 

Tim nodded, he got the, albeit vague, reference but wasn’t going to comment. There was a fair chance Gray would start laughing. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again Cher has been a star and made this so much better.
> 
> Thank you all for the messages, it's such a treat to find out what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks go to [ Cher ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherlocked/pseuds/Cherlocked) for all her beta work and helping to bring his thing into existence. 
> 
> The artwork above is courtesy of [ Cher ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherlocked/pseuds/Cherlocked) too.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear your comments.
> 
> The next chapter is nearly finished, so it shouldn't be long before it's posted.


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